10 Things
by MugenYumeDansu
Summary: 10 drabbles about situations between Rude and Reno. Relationship building, friendship, angst, romance, fluff, and a few x-rated moments ensue. Genderswap, female!Reno RenoXRude
1. Pink

**10 Things**

_**Surprise! Gen-swap, Reno is a girl, because I like it that way. ;)**_

_**Rated T for later content.**_

_**10 drabbles involving Rude and Reno. **_

**V""""V *Nom***

**Pink**

Tuesday morning at ShinRa was usually pretty uneventful, save the occasional mission assignment squabbles. Usually. That is, unless a certain redhead with a lack of **any** sense of _self-preservation _got the idea to do something stupid.

The flash of crimson that shot past him nearly made Rude drop his coffee. As it was, a little of the steaming liquid splashed out of the styrofoam cup, onto his hand.

Hissing in irritation from the stinging, he at it with his jacket sleeve. Rude turned and watched with narrowed eyes as a very panicked looking Reno shot out of sight around a corner, nearly slamming into the wall as she did so. Well, it would be more accurate to say he watched her _ass_ shoot out of sight. Though he should probably not admit that. To anyone. _Ever_.

Rude stood there for a confused second, wondering what-who- the hell Reno was running from. Knowing the redhead it could be anyone. She had a bad habit of playing pranks on the wrong people. Especially the First Class Soldiers. Who usually attempted murder in return for their shampoo being replaced by hair removal cream, or itching powder being spread all over their bedsheets, causing them to wake up scratching.

Rude chuckled at that last one. Angeal had nearly burst a blood vessel on finding out that it was Reno who'd pulled that one on both him and Zack. Though in Reno's defence, she didn't know Zack had a severe allergy to one of the chemicals used in making the irritant. Reno had still spent a week in the Infirmary for it though.

Shaking his head to clear away the thought, Rude turned on his heel to head into his office, deciding to ignore his curiousity. No sooner than he turned though, he got his answer-catching sight of Elena stalking down the hall.

Normally, catching sight of the determined stalk of the short blond woman wasn't anything out of the ordinary (Elena having a bad case of short, cute, and female—none of which lent itself to an air of someone to be taken seriously—which she often overcompensated for in the form of an impeccibal wardrobe, a gaze that could frost the dick off of a man at thirty-paces, and the walking pace of someone as tall as Rude) but for the fact that her hair…-Rude did a lightening quick double-take- was now the brightest shade of pink Rude had ever had the displeasure of seeing.

With the feeling of his testicles shriveling unpleasantly into his body, Rude had never been more grateful of his habitual pair of sunglasses. He knew his eyes were the size of dinnerplates behind them.

Still, none of his training did anything to help his hand—Styrofoam crushing like eggshells in his grip as Elena _looked_ at him. He didn't even register the pain of scalding-hot coffee cascading over his skin.

"_Reno_—" The word torn from between Elena's teeth, jagged and enraged and promising painful retribution if Rude failed to comply with her demands. For a second, Rude considered shouting, "ShinRa doesn't negotiate with terrorists!" and following Reno's sprint down the hallway—but no. Elena was too close, to fast (even in her ridiculously high-heels) for Rude to make it.

Rude swallowed thickly before cleared his throat. He lifted the hand not holding his crushed coffee cup and gestured shortly down the hall with his thumb, giving up his partner like the sacrificial fox that she was.

With a venomous look promising that she would return and eviscerate him, should his intel prove untrustworthy, Elena took off toward the corner Reno had disappeared around.

Rude watched her go, eyes locked on her now vibrantly colored hair—slowly, his balls descended, sensing that the danger had passed, glad that they had survived intact.

One thought went through his head; 'Reno…is a dead woman.'

Manfully, he retreated to his office to mop up his hand and hide. Minutes later, the screaming that echoed down the hallway was no surprise at all.

**V""""V *Nom***

**A/N: **_**I'm breaking the drabbles down into chapters. By the end there will be 10 chapters. ^_^ I will be posting whenever I can. Hope you enjoy them, and feel free, if you want, to use them as prompts. I don't plan on using for any further story... Maybe. Most likely. **_

_**Had alot of help from Self-San, in the form of Beta, and moral support for poor Rude, as well as some AWESOME suggestions. There are even some DIRECT quotes from her, because sometimes things couldn't be said better. No matter how hard ya try. SHOUTOUT to Self! THANKS SELF! *Huggles Self-san until she turns B~L~U~U~U~U~E and wiggles like an excited puppy* **_

_**Anyway, thanks for reading! R&R if you feel like. Reviews are appreciated, and they encourage me to post more stuff. ;)**_


	2. Legs

**10 Things**

_**Forgot it in the first chapter ;(**_

_**Disclaimer: I do not own FF7, or any of its content or characters.**_

_**I do however, like to twist them into various humorous, uncomfortable, or very sexy situations.**_

**V""""V *Nom***

**Legs**

The radio was blaring some old, Pre-Reform rock that Rude didn't know the name of, and the floor was littered with alchohol bottles and other debris from Shiva-knew what kind of partying and other...dubious activities had most likely taken place here.

Reno lay across the tattered blue couch, mostly-bare legs draped over the back, head lolling off the cushions. Her head swayed to the tune of tinny, static-washed music while her fingers idly picked at the hem of her black tank. Her workpants had been messily rolled up, and she had shed her wrinkled button-up hours before, when the heat really started rolling in.

Rude hated Coral, hated the fact that all of ShinRa Senior's whores couldn't have come from someplace that the air didn't stick in Rude's lungs or smother over his face like a wet blanket, and he hated that they were stuck there, in a tiny, shitty room across the street from the Madam's house, where the central cooling had failed mere hours into the assignment.

Not that Rude didn't like being a Turk, no, just that the sex-watching assignments were boring as—well, Rude decided he just wasn't going to go there, even as his stomach was going numb as he lay at the window. His shoulder was beginning to ache from the stock of his rifle, and Rude just knew that he was going to have a scope-ring around his eye when this was over.

Quietly, he watched the forms moving through the windows across the street with one eye, the other on Reno. His shades were discarded, and, like Reno, he had lost his suit hours before—stripped to an undershirt and his pants, still sweating like a dog.

In the low light, ShinRa Senior getting it on across the street, his own head beginning to ache with the beginning of a caffeine-induced migraine, Rude found his attention drawn to Reno's dangling legs.

Unlike her face and chest (which were beginning to splotch red from the rush of blood), Reno's legs were beginning to grow pale as she curled upside-down on the worn couch. Not that they weren't pale to begin with, Rude thought, just that they were starting to grow alarmingly white as they kicked lightly against the wall. In the late-afternoon glow, Reno's legs were like paper, spotted with shiny scar-tissue from her life in the Slums.

Skinny and long, they carried the same stretched quality that the rest of Reno sported—like they had gone too long without food or care, like she had hit a growth spurt but had never had enough fat on her bones to give her the breasts or hips that she should have had.

Still, they looked soft, even corded with lean muscle and scarred, and Rude had an insane urge to reach out and touch them—to run his fingers along the curve of Reno's inproportionally-bulky calf, to feel the muscle jump and twitch beneath his hand.

Rude wanted to see if they were as powerful as they looked, as corded, as smooth.

Distractedly, Rude's eye followed the line of Reno's leg, up to her boyish hips and abs, and further, to her red-neck and flushed cheeks, her eyes half-lidded as she listened to her blood rush behind her ears.

With a huff of silent laughter, Rude left her to it, turning his eyes back across the street. And if anyone saw the flush in his cheeks, he could blame it on the heat.

(After all, losing a few more brain cells couldn't hurt Reno very much…right?)

On second thought…

**V""""V *Nom***

**A/N: **_**Thank you to my super-awesome Beta, Self-san, for fixing all my mistakes, and well, pretty much WRITING this chapter. *Cheers* Thanks Self-san.**_

_**So whadja think? Let me know, ok? ;) **_

_**Mugen out.**_


	3. 3 AM

**10 Things**

_**All I can say is awwwe, I wrote this?**_

**V""""V *Nom***

**3 AM**

As a rule, Rude never complained when Reno called him at 0300 to drunkenly ramble to him about anything and everything—just to keep the roaring in her head to a minimum. Rude looked at it like this—a saner Reno was better for everyone involved (especially him) and if letting her listen to his breathing while she talked helped, so be it. It wasn't like she needed him to talk back or anything, and it wasn't like she ever shut-up at work, so. (Let no one ever think that 'comm-silence' had any place in Reno's personal dictionary.)

Still. It was an entirely different thing when she actually _showed up at his door._

In fact, Rude almost shot her the first time, when he heard the tell-tale scratching at the door that said someone was trying to pick his lock. (Thankfully, his ShinRa-Issued apartment was little more than one room, all open-space around the kitchenette and what could barely be considered a bathroom through the only other door.)

So, like a sane person, Rude opened the door, ready and willing to shoot someone as the criminal came tumbling inside (thrown off-balance when Rude jerked open the door with a bang, standing off to the side and gun at-level to shoot someone kneeling.)

Then, like a crazy person, Rude felt his finger flick back on the safety—the back of his mind recognizing the shadowed form that sprawled across his floor.

Reno.

The front of his mind, still buzzing with adrenaline, let the back-side win, and pull Reno to her feet with his free hand, his heel kicking shut his door. He didn't bother re-locking it.

He sighed.

She smelled like stale-sweat—like concrete and booze and sex, and her hands were trembling. In the dark, Rude couldn't see much else, and he found he didn't fucking care to.

Reno squawked.

"Ah! Rude! My man! My main-squeeze—" she laughed, high-pitched and frantic as Rude pulled her further inside.

Rude didn't care—his brain already shutting back down now that he knew it was just Reno, the crazy bitch.

"Bed," Rude grunted, hauling the woman the measly five-steps it took to get to his bunk.

The _you-fucking-crazy-fool _went unsaid, as Rude shoved Reno at the mattress, dropping his service-piece onto his crappy night-stand.

"Naw, man, I was just looking for a place to crash... I lost my key—" The last was little more than a squeak as she was pushed onto the bed. Reno scrambled, trying to wiggle off of the bed, but Rude wasn't feeling charitable—he shoved her back, hard enough that she hit her head on the wall and whined, noisy and indignant, her hand coming up to rub at her dirty hair.

"Don't care." He dropped himself to the mattress, bouncing next to Reno in an uncomfortable moment of elbows-hands-knees-what-the-fuck-Reno-is-that-a-fu cking-machete before he got her restrained, trapped under his arm, the wall at her back and her chin digging into his shoulder.

Rude realised she was wearing nothing but a flimsy tanktop and a skirt that rode a little too low on the swell of her still-too-narrow hips, and a pair of knee-high boots, but he didn't care.

All he wanted to do was sleep—he could deal with Reno in the morning, if she hadn't weaseled out before then.

Around them, the apartment quieted, Reno's breathing smoothing into a slightly slower rhythm, her fingers tapping out a beat against his ribs.

Her hair was greasy against his cheek, and her breath smelled like beer when she said, wonderingly, her fingers pulling at a hole worn into the hem of his t-shirt, "You know, I honestly didn't think it was possible for you to talk less-"

She cut off with a yelp, Rude's fingers digging into the soft skin under her arm and twisting—a silent shut-the-fuck-up-and-go-the-fuck-to-sleep that had her stuttered on a laugh.

She settled, against his side, and Rude hummed a tuneless something-or-another slowly, low in his throat until he felt Reno's heart-beat quiet and her fingers fell still.

She slept.

And Rude let her.

And the next morning when he woke up covered in sparkles, with Reno snoring in his ear and her hair in his face, and one of her stiletto boots digging into his shin, he didn't even complain.

**V""""V *Nom***

**A/N: **_**Thanks again to Self-San for all the help! Couldn't have done it without you! ;)**_


End file.
